Peter Pan Must Die Read Online Free PDF

for a life of leisure with her on a tropical island, financed by the inheritance she’d receive at Carl’s death—because, ladies and gentlemen, Carl still had hopes for the marriage and still hadn’t changed his will.”
    He extended his hands forward in a kind of supplication for the jury’s empathy. “He had hopes of saving his marriage. Hopes of being with a wife he still loved.
And what was that wife doing?
She was conniving—first with a gangster, then with a cheap Romeo—to get him killed. What kind of person—?”
    A new voice was heard, out of the video frame, whiny and impatient. “Objection! Your Honor, Mr. Piskin’s emotional conjecture is way beyond anything that—”
    The prosecutor calmly interrupted. “Every word I’m saying will be supported by sworn testimony.”
    The jowly judge, visible in an upper corner of the screen, muttered, “Denied. Proceed.”
    “Thank you, Your Honor. As I was saying, the defendant did everything in her power to persuade her young bedmate to kill her husband. But he refused. Well, guess what the defendant did then. What do you think a determined would-be killer would do?”
    He stared inquiringly at the jury for a good five seconds before answering his own question. “The petty gangster was afraid to shoot Carl Spalter. The personal trainer was afraid to shoot Carl Spalter.
So Kay Spalter began taking shooting lessons herself!
”
    The out-of-frame voice was heard again. “Objection! Your Honor, the causal link in the prosecution’s use of the word ‘So’ implies an admission of motive by the defendant. There is no such admission anywhere in—”
    The prosecutor broke in. “I’ll restate the narrative, Your Honor, in a way fully supported by testimony. The gangster declined to shoot Carl. The trainer declined to shoot Carl.
And at that point
the defendant began taking shooting lessons herself.”
    The judge shifted his bulk with apparent physical discomfort. “Let the record show Mr. Piskin’s restatement. Proceed.”
    The prosecutor turned to the jury. “Not only did the defendanttake shooting lessons, but you’ll hear testimony from a certified firearms instructor concerning the remarkable level of skill she acquired. Which brings us to the tragic culmination of our story. Last November, Carl Spalter’s mother, Mary Spalter, passed away. She died alone, in the kind of accident that is all too common—a fall in her bathtub in the senior residential community where she had spent the final years of her life. At the funeral service that was conducted at the Willow Rest cemetery, Carl rose to deliver a eulogy at her grave. You’ll hear how he took a step or two, suddenly pitched forward, and hit the ground face-first. He didn’t move. Everyone
thought
he had tripped, and that the fall had knocked him unconscious. It took a few moments before anyone saw the trickle of blood on the side of his forehead—a trickle of blood coming from a tiny hole in the temple. A subsequent medical examination confirmed what the initial investigating team suspected—that Carl had been struck by a high-powered small-caliber rifle bullet. You’ll hear from the police experts who reconstructed the shooting that the bullet was fired from an apartment window approximately five hundred yards from the point of impact on the victim. You’ll see maps, photographs, and drawings illustrating exactly how it was done. It will all be abundantly clear,” he said with a reassuring smile. He checked his watch before going on.
    As he spoke again, he paced back and forth in front of the jury box. “That apartment house, ladies and gentlemen, was owned by Spalter Realty. The apartment from which the bullet was fired was vacant, awaiting renovation, as were most of the apartments in that building. The defendant had easy access to the keys. But that’s not all. You’ll hear damning testimony that Kay Spalter …” He stopped and pointed toward a woman seated at the defense table with